


First Kill

by icantthinkofagoodurl



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: M/M, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:25:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6655972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icantthinkofagoodurl/pseuds/icantthinkofagoodurl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bryce passes his Red Test while still at Stanford</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Kill

He who permits himself to tell a lie once, finds it much easier to do it a second and third time, till at length it becomes habitual; he tells lies without attending to it, and truths without the world's believing him. This falsehood of the tongue leads to that of the heart, and in time depraves all its good dispositions. THOMAS JEFFERSON

 

Bryce Larkin was twenty years old. Legally, he couldn't drink alcohol, nor could he get married. Bryce Larkin was twenty years old and he had killed a man. It had been easy. One shot, and a life had ended. His trainer had congratulated him, a job well done. Bryce couldn't get his hands to stop shaking. Joseph Espintoff was dead. An arms dealer looking to step up to human trafficking, he'd kidnapped six girls to date. Bryce had stopped him. Red Test completed. He had held it together for the debriefing, hands shoved in his pockets so no one would see them shake. He was outside his dorm, and why God had he thought joining a frat was a good idea. Bryce didn't think he could face everyone. He was a good liar, trained to be. But one look at him and the thickest of his frat buddies would know something was up. And that was how he ended up climbing the drainpipe to the room he shared with Chuck. Which as it turns out, was a pretty stupid idea. Chuck was smart and just paranoid enough to make sure the window was locked before he went to sleep. Bryce wedged his foot against the pipe and pulled out his phone. Dialing Chuck’s number without having to look at the screen. Bryce heard it ring from his perch outside the room, and watched as Chuck groaned and grabbed clumsily for his phone, frowning when he saw the caller ID “Bryce?” he sounded half asleep, his voice gravelly and deep in a way that under any other circumstances would have Bryce moaning. Not tonight.   
“Sorry, I didn't want to wake you.” Chuck was sitting upright, rubbing his eyes with one hand and scanning the room.   
“Where are you dude? I didn't think you were going out tonight?” Bryce bit his tongue. Stupid, he should have snuck through the house, then Chuck wouldn't know he'd slipped out during the night. He was suspicious enough of Bryces activities as it was. Chuck wasn't an idiot. He noticed every time bryce walked in late to a lecture or just missed them altogether.   
“Uh yeah, about that, can you unlock the window?” Chuck blinked, then turned to look at the window, bryce gave him a halfhearted smile and wave. Chuck blinked again. Then hung up the phone and got up to go over to the window, letting Bryce in. “Thanks man, I owe you one.” Chuck locked the window behind him.   
“How on earth did you- we’re three stories up!”   
“Some of us aren't afraid of heights Charles.” He quipped, but his heart wasn't in it and Chuck knew him well enough to tell.   
“Bryce where did you go? What happened- are you wearing a tux?” Bryce looked down at his cloths and yes he was wearing a tux. His head really wasn't with him tonight.   
“Costume party.” He lied, and Chuck looked at him with doubt, but he didn't argue. Small mercies.   
“Jesus Bryce you're hands are shaking!” Chuck said, worry evident in his tone. Bryce held them in front of his eyes. Like glaring at the offending appendages would help.  
“I can't make them stop.” And if Bryce’s voice cracked on that last word, no one had to know.   
“Bryce…” Chuck breathed, his eyes showing his distress. He was used to Bryce being the strong one, the one who helped him through all his troubles. Not this. Bryce didn't let people see him vulnerable.   
“'m okay.” Bryce said quietly. Chuck wrapped his shaking hands with his own. Holding him.   
“No you're not.” Bryce made a sound that was somewhere between a sob and a whimper causing Chuck's heart to clench. He put an arm around his roommate and held him while he sobbed. “Shh let it out, you're alright.” he soothed, not bothering to ask Bryce what was wrong, he knew the man would just lie to him anyway. They stayed like that through the night, sitting on the floor of their dorm. Come morning, he knew Bryce would go about the day as if nothing had happened. But right now he held his friend in his arms and did what he could to help him through whatever was going on in his head. And for right now, that was enough.


End file.
